


The Final Thought

by Aemoenea



Series: Born a Hero, Die a Hero [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cliffhangers, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Nightmares, do people even read tags, recall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-21 18:28:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9561452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aemoenea/pseuds/Aemoenea
Summary: Where Jesse McCree and Hanzo Shimada must work together to the best of their ability, even if they have a hatred for each other. The plan of that changing has never been thought about in Hanzo's mind, but what about Jesse?They must overcome all obstacles, and the deeds commited and fears gained from their pasts. But when a Hanzo Shimada comes into Jesse's life, Hanzo makes it more difficult then it has to be. But for what reason?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Introduction
> 
>  
> 
> Hello! Thank you for reading "The Final Thought!" I had been thinking about creating a McHanzo story for a while now, and decided, why not? This is seen through the perspective of Hanzo Shimada and Jesse McCree. I have plans of making this a trilogy, but I am not certain if that will happen. I used to be a bit of a lazy author, where I would not update for a long time. But that has changed. I will do my best to update as much as possible, for even if people do not enjoy this story, it makes me happy to update it.
> 
> This is rated M for Mature. There is graphic violence in this. It comes with dark twists and turns, with gore filled pasts. I had no intention on putting any adult themes in this story. I will have tags at every chapter, telling you of what is to come. For reasons to surprise, I may not add a few tags. Anything that I have decided to use that is not mine will be added at the end, with the Notes. I will rightly credit the owner. I can tell you, though, that one of the things is a nursery rhyme. I do not know the owner of them, so I cannot correctly credit. But at least you do know, it is not mine. 
> 
> I do not own anything of Overwatch. Blizzard personally owns all characters in this fanfic, and Overwatch itself.
> 
> Sit back and relax as you read. I do hope you enjoy! If you decide to create a fanwork for this story, leave a message telling me so! It is appreciated! I do not own things like Twitter, Tumblr, or Facebook. I do not wish to make any just yet. So, like said, you can send me a message that you have made one. If you wish, you can send a link as well!  
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

_"You could have stopped this."_

  
_Jesse covered his ears, staring at the remains of the Swiss Headquarters. He let out a wail as the ash and smoke flew into the air, alike to a inflated balloon. He felt the tears down his cheeks, his younger self shaking in his boots. He quietly wept as sirens wailed._  


  
_"It's ain't my fault..." He said to himself, imagining the eyes of the team staring at him with disappointment. He closed his eyes, shaking. "It ain't my fault!" He repeated, louder than he had intended to be. The voices in his head grew louder. From Gabriel, to Jack. To Jack, to Ana. To Ana, to Gabriel. The cycle repeated. It was merely of a "weak," from Gabriel, a "I trusted you," from Ana, and a "failure," from Jack. Jesse opened his eyes and stared at the ruins. His body stood up for him, forcing him to walk toward the remains. His hands dropped to his sides, uncovering his ears to let him hear more. The tears stained his cheeks and he kneeled down, sitting back down. His knees pressed against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around them. The brim of his hat passed over his eyes, making his vision of the outside world smaller. He felt small where he sat. As much as he did not wish to see this, he was being forced to. Being forced to see the devastating way of how Overwatch went out like a flame. It made Jesse think of a candle with a single flame, the wax slowly melting until it was nothing but a puddle. When the fire died down, and the room became dark, that was when Jesse imagined how the headquarters had blown up. Whos fault was it though? Jesse had no clue. He had always believed Angela Ziegler when she had said that it was Gabriel's fault. Then again, she had her own secrets. Everyone else was a fool to believe her, but Jesse was not._  


  
_Jesse let out a banshee's angry yell, then covered his own ears. He had no clue if this was just a dream, or if this was reality. The feels of a dream, but the thoughts of reality. The smoke made its way to his nose, making him wince from the heavy smell. It reminded him of a lit cigar, ones that he always smoked. He opened his mouth, gasping for air, which was a mistake on his part. The gas slipped into his throat and he started to hack. He covered his mouth with his arm, his eyes brimmed with tears because of the smoke. Letting out another cry, he stood up once more, stumbling away from the ruins like someone who had gotten up to fast after resting. His vision darkened and he tripped over a stone, falling onto his stomach. He was young again, but only in this hell of a dream. He let out a snort, quietly whimpering. "Dream? More like a nightmare..." He told himself. His ability to slightly control himself in his dreams made him joyful. But he wanted out of this nightmare, and wanted back in reality. His attention snapped to a creaking sound, as if an old door had been opened. Jesse rolled onto his back, watching a large stone tip toward him. The smoke colored stone swayed in the wind, but he knew it shouldn't be doing that. Stones that large cannot be moved by the wind. Then again, it was a nightmare._  


  
_Jesse watched as the stone seem to grow larger. He was questioning it. A distraction. His eyes flew open with alert when he concluded that the stone wasn't growing larger, it was rather falling. Falling toward him. His instincts kicked in as he rolled out of the way, the stone slamming to the ground to where he had recently been. His pulse hammered in his ears as he sat up. Is this was he deserved for the explosion? Did Gabriel happen to have cursed him before death? Jesse didn't know, but didn't want to know either. He sniffled as he stood, his nose running with a fluid. In his eyes, this wasn't fair. This explosion, his feelings...none of it was fair. Then, the yelling started. It started out small, as if far away, then grew louder._  


  
_"Jesse!" He spun around, hearing the yell. The bodily form of a female appeared before him--the body of Ana Amari, talking to him. "Jesse!" It gradually grew louder, and his arms flew out for a hug. Just as Ana made it, the yelling ceased for a moment. Then it began, but louder than before, as if someone was next to his ear._  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jesse!"

  
Jesse McCree sat up quickly, his head nearly banging against the bed above him. He lied on the bottom of a bunk bed. He let out a muffled groan from wiping the sweat off his face. His eyes looked to the green cyborg ninja beside him. "Genji?" He grumbled, shoving the sheets atop of him aside. He got out of bed lazily, stumbling from becoming dizzy.

  
"It is nearly 9:45 AM. Please get up. Take a shower, as well." Genji waved his hand, faking to be covering his nose. McCree snorted in reply, grabbing his cigar and hat, becoming reassured he still had both.

  
"Ya, ya. Whatever Shimada." He felt like a kid again, when his mama used to tell him to shower. The walls were coated with a sky blue, white paint intended to be clouds piled on different places on the wall.  

McCree swiped a single hand through his hair, getting a few tangles out. Genji left to let him change, and McCree sighed. He checked his phone--full battery. He wasn't alike to one of those teenagers that need their phone to be full, but he did like to have at least some battery power on his phone.

  
Then he remembered it. The recall, sent by Agent Winston. They had all finally been grouped together yesterday. Because McCree knew of a secret base they had (that Gabriel told him about) they all decided to go there. But the final person to show, Angela Ziegler, had  shown up at midnight. So they all went to a good hotel.  The base had been hidden, partly underground, and partly above ground. It was in New Mexico, which did surprise McCree a lot. He expected it to be somewhere big, like Philadelphia, or Boston for example. It neared Santa Fe.

  
McCree deeply yawned, walking out the opened wooden brown door. He decided to shower later, having a feeling that Genji was joking about him having a bad odor (least he hoped he was). He was starving to have breakfast, his belly grumbling to confirm. McCree walked toward the kitchen. He shared a room with Genji, the reason as to why he slept on a bunk bed. There were two other bed rooms in the hotel room. Angela Ziegler, known as Mercy, slept in one, and in the other slept Lena Oxten, also known as Tracer. The smell of breakfast reached McCree's nose, and he hungrily walked faster. He slid around playfully on the slippery wooden floor, sitting at the table. Mercy had made the usual breakfast for them all--waffles, eggs, bacon, and sausage. Apart to the breakfast, McCree would have a smoke afterwards.

"I made those 4 items for you to eat. I did not request for you to smoke afterwards. Breakfast is the healthiest meal of the day, not the one that causes cancer." She would say. McCree would just shrug at her. His hopes of leaving this hotel today were high, since he wanted to get to the hidden headquarters. Gabriel had told him about them months before the explosion.

  
McCree grabbed some eggs, bacon, and a single waffle. He didn't mind eating alone at the moment, neither did he find it unusual.

  
"Good morning, Jesse!" Mercy chirped as she walked in with a cup of coffee, her heels clicking the ground. She sat down beside him, no plate in front of her. McCree took it that she did not want to eat.

"Howdy doc. Good to see someone else awake." McCree replied, spilling syrup onto his waffle, making it drown in it. He took a bite of it and chewed, gulping it down easily. "Genji's awake, but he screeched in my ear like some banshee." Mercy let out a laugh.

  
"I believe I heard. He mentioned your face being red, and that you were sweating. Was it hot overnight? Or did you have a nightmare?" McCree waved his hand, trying to shake off what had happened. He didn't hate talking about problems with the doctor, but when the talk might hit too close to home, that's when he started to fret.

  
"Don't worry 'bout it, doc. It ain't anythin'. Besides, slept like a baby." Mercy sighed, shaking her head. She wasn't buying the "I'm fine," act that McCree had attempted, which sent panic running through his veins. "I don't intend on talkin' 'bout it." He added, hoping that she would drop the subject.

  
"Well I do. Sorry Jesse, but I am a doctor. I need to know what is wrong. So...what is wrong?" She rested her chin upon her knuckles, her elbow being supported by the table. She stared at him, as if to inspect him.

  
"Sorry? Right." McCree snorted, like it was the best joke he heard. It felt interesting to stare at the gray fork in his hand. Mercy placed a hand on his shoulder, which he shook off. "Been havin' nightmares, about uh...the explosion." He said it like everyone knew it (to which they did).

  
"Do you need sleeping pills? I could get you some if you want..." Mercy started to get up, but again, McCree waved his hand, closing his eyes. He shook his head and opened his eyes, continuing to eat.

  
"No thanks. I still get sleep nonetheless, but if I need those pills, I know who to go to." McCree replied, stuffing his cheeks with the last of the waffle.  Mercy nodded in reply, going quiet by eating food herself. McCree stood up, leaving the unfinished food on the table. He would finish later, for it was rude not to. But his appetite was fading at the memory of the explosion. The real question: why was he having nightmares of the explosion, if he was not there to see it? He had left weeks before it, but nonetheless, he had dreams of it. In every nightmare of it, he became a teenager again. He would be forced to watch it, like a video on repeat. But at the end of every nightmare, if not awakened before the ending, he would always see two red eyes staring at him, piercing into his soul as if to steal it. McCree had no clue as to what they were, but he never planned on asking anyone about it. Besides, who would know?

  
McCree made his way through the lobby of the hotel, walking out the door. The fresh smell of cut grass making its way to his nose. The morning dew shined the grass, asking for people to look at it. It was summer time, but McCree could feel chills running down his spine, as if to say _"you're being watched_."

  
That was exactly how McCree felt.

  
He could feel the eyes piercing his skin with a sharp glare, and he turned. Nothing. It was as if he was becoming paranoid. He snorted, having the guess that it was someone who has never seen a cowboy before. That, or, it was someone who has never seen Jesse McCree, a known outlaw, in person. Maybe someone had finally recognized him, and was planning on not calling the cops. It would be very unusual, but McCree had seen people before that did not call the cops on him. They probably knew that he could get out of trouble in no time. A cold feeling passed over McCree, and his skin was covered from head-to-toe in goosebumps. He shivered, and waked farther across the hotel's lawn. It was the Hilton Santa Fe Buffalo Thunder hotel, one of McCree's favorite places in Santa Fe. But at the moment, it felt like one of the most dangerous, considering the fact that people that have broken the law were there.

  
McCree pulled out a cigar from his pocket, lighting it, and chewing on the end a bit. It was a small habit of his when he got nervous, or worried. He inhaled, then exhaled. Repeated that a few times, then left the cigar in his mouth. He wanted the knowledge of knowing when they were leaving, but wanted to relax a bit. The feeling of being watched had vanished--mysteriously disappeared. It made McCree wonder what was exactly watching him. Then again, he could ask Mercy if she had ever felt that strange feeling before.

  
The sun's rays put warmth upon McCree's back, forcing him to want to take off the serape. It made his body as hot as a flame, but he didn't mind. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers getting out a few knots. He would need to remember to do something about his hair--a simple wash and comb, then maybe gel.

  
Despite him thinking about his hygiene, the feeling was back. And of course, McCree for sure knew what it was. He was being watched. Something, or someone, had their eyes on him. It reminded him to damn much of those nightmares. McCree wanted to turn around--face the foe causing him the uncomfortable feeling. Something was holding him back from doing so. Something was telling him not to turn back. But what?

  
McCree chewed on his cigar again--screw it. Die being a fool, or turn around and face whatever was there. "I'm bein' paranoid..." He grumbled to no one. His arm ached from having to hold his cigar, so he dropped his arm down, holding the unlit side of the cigar. The lit side faced the ground, ash tapping off and falling to the ground separately. He took a breath--exhaled--then turned around.

  
Two, unblinking, red eyes stared at him from where he was. He stared back, as if this was a staring contest. Fear built up into his chest, making his breath sharply stop. His chest tightened from the fear that had shown out of nowhere. The eyes reminded him of a wolf--watchful, nearly unblinking. The realization that McCree had been holding his breath caught up to him, and he started to breathe again.

  
_Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale_. He reminded himself of how to breathe. A second realization hit him. Those red eyes seemed to be on a black figure. A black, hooded, figure, alike to a child's monster-in-the-closet type of monster. A deadly one, too. The hands with talons reminded McCree of a bird of prey--the bird waiting for their target. McCree dropped the cigar when another realization hit him like a brick.

  
He was staring at the hotel doors that had recently been behind him.

  
That meant that the red eyes were behind him.

  
McCree stood there, his mouth agape when that realization had hit him. His eyes wandered to his empty holster, then back to the red eyes. Now or never. McCree spun around, the heel of his boot sliding against the dew filled grass. His eyes stared at every object and every person that passed. There was nothing there. The red eyes, the black coat, the gray talons--all gone. Confusion set into McCree, and he rubbed his forehead. A small headache was beginning to make his head throb. It was a hallucination of something McCree had never seen before--dream or reality. He stood up straight, rubbing his arms. The goosebumps  
were gone, but he could still feel a chill down his spine. A hand pressed itself onto his shoulder, and he spun around, swinging his arm toward the person. His wrist was grabbed quickly.

  
"Jesse? Are you alright?" Genji held his wrist with a tight grip, sure to leave a mark. "I had been informed that you went outside, and decided to accompany you. You seem frightened." Genji informed him, letting go of his wrist. McCree held his wrist and rubbed it.

  
"Yeah." McCree glanced behind him, "yeah. I am alright. Why do ya ask? Somethin' bad about me that's obvious?" McCree gulped, the obviousness that he was lying easily being seen. He stepped on the fallen cigar, shoving it deep into the dirt. McCree exhaled, whistling while doing so. Genji stared at him, seeming to inspect his face for any signs of lying. His eyes were the key.

  
"Jesse...I, er...I do not believe you are telling me the truth. I can see it in your eyes--a secret fear that is deeply hidden in your soul. Please, Jesse, tell me what is the matter. If you will not tell me, then maybe Mercy can help you with your problems?" McCree waved his hand, shaking his head. 

  
"Nah. Mercy wont help with shit." Genji's eyes went wide, but McCree held up a hand to stop him from speaking, "she has got her own things to worry 'bout. 'Sides, I don't need any help. I just woke up too early 'cause of a certain someone." McCree sent a short glare toward Genji, one that could scare even the largest rodent, "but I was just hallucinatin' a bit. Don't worry, Shimada." McCree reassured him, readjusting his serape. He shielded his eyes from the bright sun that dared to hurt his eyes. He walked toward the glass doors, watching Genji in the reflection. But it was back. The blood red eyes sharpened as they stared at him, starting to make his legs shake like jello. Genji bolted to his side, grabbing him before he could fall. He grabbed at his empty holster, desperately trying to find his Peacekeeper. But it wasn't there. It wasn't anywhere near him. The chances of it being at his room was high, and he wished he had brought it with him.

" _And risk getting yourself killed, or taken to jail_?" Ana would laugh. McCree let out a muffled groan, his arm having covered his mouth from behind held so weirdly. He struggled to stand up straight.

  
"I am getting Mercy, whether you wish for me to, or not. Stay here and sit down, Jesse." Genji helped him to one of the pillars. He sat him down and ran inside. Weird looks were sent in McCree's directions. The people probably believed Genji was an omnic, and not a human. McCree felt too weak to care. He looked toward the doors again--red eyes stared back at him. McCree didn't want to wait for Genji and Mercy to come back. He didn't even want help in the first place, but then again, he had no choice now. His attention snapped to a low, rough, laugh ringing in his ears. He immediately turned his head toward that direction--to the right of him. There was nothing there--only the slick grass. His crushed cigar lied in the grass nearby to where McCree sat. He let out a small whistle, resting his head against the white pillar behind him. He didn't hear the people taking pictures of him. He didn't hear the sound of the door opening and closing. He didn't hear the sound of someone gasping. But he did feel someone grab his arm.

Mercy gripped his arm, moving the plaid shirt at his shoulder. His whole arm was now on display for both Genji and Mercy to see. The shocked expression on Mercy's face told McCree that something was dearly wrong--something that McCree did not know about.

  
"What? Doc, what's up?" McCree asked franticly. He tried to see what was up with his arm, but Mercy shook her head. It was clear as day--" _don't look_." Did McCree have some secret wound on his arm that he got overnight? His curiosity got the best of him. When Mercy let go of his arm to ask Genji to get something, he immediately looked. Two red marks, deeply edged in his skin, were in the shape of the eyes that he had seen. A black 'T' was marked in the middle of the red eyes. He realized he was holding his breath and finally exhaled. He continued to breathe normally, but was scared. What, or who, had put it there? Was it going to be permanent?

  
His ears rung, and he did his best to cover one of them. The ringing grew louder and louder, forcing him to grit his teeth. He bit his lip hard, drawing blood.

  
_"Do you need any help, Jesse?" "How are you, Jesse?" "Have you recently used-"_  


  
The voices of Ana Amari cut off in his head, and the ringing stopped. Genji helped him up, the bubbles in his arm popping. He tried to tug his arm away, but Genji held it tightly. They led him back to their hotel room, being given strange looks by people they passed by. They went into the hotel room, the room becoming quiet when they had walked in in a frantic way.

  
"Angela? What is the matter?" Reinhardt boomed, standing up to see McCree better. Mercy sat him down on the couch, placing his arm on the armrest.

  
"Do not fret, Reinhardt. McCree...has something that I must see to. Please, pay no mind to it." Mercy told Reinhardt, looking to McCree's arm. She moved it in different ways, even to the point where it hurt. When it did hurt, she said a small apology. She sighed, using rubbing alcohol and a cloth to try and wipe the 'T' and the red marks off. But they refused to disappear.

  
"How did-" McCree was abruptly cut off.

  
"How did I see the 'T'? Even if it is on the upper part of your arm, I saw the end of the 'T' from underneath your plaid shirt. You do not draw on yourself, least I hope so. So I knew it must have been something you did not know about." Mercy replied, giving up on trying to remove the "ink." McCree shook her hand off, fixing his plaid shirt so that it covered most of the 'T' and the red.

  
"It's just a mark. Don't worry 'bout it, doc." Mercy scoffed, knowing that it was not "just a mark." McCree shrugged and stood back up.

  
"Cheers, McCree! I finished your food for you! Not anything that was bitten." The cheerful British accent slipped from McCree's left ear to his right ear.

  
"Thanks, Lena." McCree replied. He did not wish to finish his food himself anyway. He could have saved it, but Lena took care of that for him.

  
"McCree, er...we may need to talk about this later today. I am not certain if we can, but...we may need to." Mercy said softly, lightly dropping a hand onto his shoulder. She wore a yellow t-shirt with white shorts--her normal clothing when she was not wearing her battle armor. Again, McCree shook her hand off, spinning around.

  
"I don't mind, doc. When are we goin' ta leave? I want to get out of here faster than a damn bullet." McCree grumbled, eyeing the coffee table next to him. His gun was not on top of it, so he suspected that it was in his room. Maybe Genji knew where it was? The light in the dining room flickered twice, but didn't go out. McCree pointed to it, smirking. "This ain't one of the best rooms. I say we leave as soon as possible today."

  
"We know, Jesse. We had planned on leaving sometime around noon." Genji replied, "but I will be leaving earlier." _'That's not fair_.' McCree wanted to reply, but didn't. "I have business to attend to at Nepal, and cannot be at the base with you all. I am sorry, but I may be back in a few weeks. I am leaving in about an hour. I cannot wait to see you all again." Genji replied, the green in his visor seeming to brighten to McCree.

  
"Well, then have fun, Shimada. Bring back a souvenir, will ya?" Genji laughed and nodded.

"If you wish, then I shall. I will do my best to bring back a souvenir for you." His attention turned to Mercy, and they seemed to have some silent conversation. He walked over to her, but McCree was in earshot.  
"You do remember what I told you, correct?"

  
"Yes, I do, Genji. I promise you that it will be alright if he shows up." Genji nodded and bowed slightly in a 'thank you.' McCree snorted, catching the attention of Genji and Mercy. Everyone at the table that was eating breakfast resumed their conversations.

  
"Shit, Shimada. Didn't know ya loved to hide secrets as well. So what is it?" His boots clicked the ground as he walked over to them, the golden spurs jingling and sparkling as they moved. Mercy looked away from the two, staring at the table as if she wanted to go back to eat. "Doc, if you are tryin' to hide some bullshit from me, it ain't gonna work."

  
"Jesse!" Mercy sharply snapped in reply, snapping her eyes toward him. It was the look of shock from hearing him. He had only just met her again yesterday, and was already racking up trouble for the both of them. "Leave it to Genji and I, please."

  
"And let you tell everyone else but myself? Fuck no. Doc, I get to hear it if everyone else does. Who is this person? You said "he," right? Who the hell are they? Some friend of his?" He jutted his thumb out and toward Genji, signaling that he was talking about "some friend of Genji's."

  
"Jesse, now is not the best time to be talking about this." McCree raised a brow, puffing his cheeks out for the moment, "we can talk later, when I have decided to tell everyone."

  
"Early bird catches the worm, y'know? Can't ya just...y'know...spill the beans to me now? It-" Genji cut him off with a wave of his hand.

  
"If he does show up early, then it is good for someone else to know. You know my backstory, do you not?" The shaking of McCree's head showed that he had no clue about it, "I see. Well, then I shall explain." Genji explained the details. How he had a brother named Hanzo, who had attempted to kill Genji. How Genji had been saved by Overwatch, and made the decision of joining them. "So you see, Hanzo may show  
up. He has not seen me since...that time." Genji seemed to trail off when he mentioned "that time," which made McCree wonder. When was "that time?"

  
"Hanzo Shimada, huh?" McCree tested the name on his tongue, sounding it out a bit, "dangerous guy?"

  
"No. My brother is definitely not dangerous. He has changed since the last I saw him. I have plans on meeting him once again, but I cannot meet him today. If you are lucky enough, you may meet him when you arrive at the base." Genji replied, rubbing his neck as if to be embarrassed.

  
"If we are lucky enough, we will be killed by yer brother." McCree replied. He obviously took a disliking to Genji's brother. He had attempted to kill Genji when they were younger, then left poor Genji to die. What kind of sibling does that? Some brother he had.

  
"He does not mean to harm. He only means to talk to me. Believe me, Jesse, he knows what he is doing. When he arrives at the base, he will know not to be on anyone's bad side. He will stay on his own and keep himself out of all conversations." McCree scoffed, crossing his arms.

  
"It ain't explainin' how he knows where the base is, y'know. It's a secret base that only Overwatch and the government should know 'bout. How does someone like Hanzo know where it is if he has never been there? Genji? Mind explainin'?" McCree was asking for too much, and he knew he was. But he needed answers to special questions. Did Genji tell Hanzo about that secret base before the fall of Overwatch? Or had he told him after the fall? But why? Just to meet each other again, and risk the lives of the other Overwatch members?

  
"I informed him during our stay here. I texted him." Genji replied, rocking on his feet like a child who had just done something wrong. "He had told me that he should be there by today, but I did not tell him I would not be there."

  
"So you are not only, in a way, lyin' to yer own brother, but you are riskin' all of our lives to some brother who was supposed to be the "king" of the Shimada empire?" McCree's gruff voice made his chest rumble. He didn't like the sound of the brother, but nonetheless, he was going to have to trust him. He bet that there would be times that he wouldn't be able to trust the Shimada.

  
"I am lying to him, yes. Risking your lives? No. I am not doing such thing. My brother can be...difficult at times. But believe me, he is truly a nice person when you get to know him." Genji reassured.

  
"By "nice," you mean fuckin' mean?" McCree snorted. There was no way he was going to believe that Genji's brother was actually caring and generous. He was an intelligent archer--didn't think twice before shooting. It reminded McCree of himself--someone who doesn't give mercy.

  
"Jesse, I will leave him in your hands. Do not make me regret my decision." Genji put a hand on McCree's shoulder. McCree raised a brow and cocked his head to the side.

  
"You trust me? O' all people?" McCree shoved his own hand to his chest, in the expression of showing he was shocked, "really now?" Genji let out a sigh, rubbing the part of his mask where his forehead would be. "I'm honored, Shimada. I really am. Ya think I'd get along with some..." McCree cut himself off, looking for the right word to use, "I don't know...oddity?" Genji dropped his hand to his side, watching McCree take  
glances toward the open window. The cold air blew into the room, making McCree's hair fly with the wind.

  
"...Yes. I was reluctant to trust you, but...I could not choose anyone else. You were my only choice." A fake gasp passed through McCree's lips, and he leaned back.

  
"The amount o' people that feel offended right now. Just me though? I mean, there's Reinhardt, Mercy, Torbjorn-" McCree cut himself off abruptly, deciding not to list people off.

  
"I know that, Jesse. But you were...unique. Someone that I can definitely trust. Someone that will not harm my brother for experiments, or have a rude personality to my brother." Genji fiddled with the strap of a bag he had just lifted into his arms. McCree had the feeling that Genji was insulting Mercy secretly, from saying "experiments."

  
"Unique?" McCree bowed playfully, standing back up. He yawned, making his knuckles crack by pressing his palm to his fist. He wanted the day to just skip to the time that they leave, so that he could just get to the base early. He hoped that there was going to be old files on Gabriel, Jack, and Ana. Maybe even on Reaper...? There was no way there could be files on Reaper, and McCree should know that. But maybe, _just_ maybe, there would be files. A feeling lodged in McCree's chest made him believe that there had to be files somewhere in that secret base.

  
What if Reaper had the knowledge of them going to the old base? McCree had never seen the Reaper in person, but had heard of him from eavesdropping on one of Mercy's conversations with an unknown person. McCree's attention snapped back to Genji, hearing the cyborg let out a muffled groan.

  
"Jesse, I would like to pack before I leave. You must remember that you will be watching my brother closely." _Like a hawk._  


  
"Can't fail someone like ya, Shimada. Will be sure to do so. And ya get back...?" McCree waved his hand, motioning for Genji to finish his statement.

  
"Like said, I may be back in a few weeks. It could be longer, could be less. I am uncertain." Genji whirled around, walking to his room, concluding their conversation.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Genji had left hours ago, but it was time for the rest to leave. They had all packed up, having multiple bags in their arms. Reinhardt had the most bags, his armor being stuffed into the many bags that he had. His voice boomed when Genji left, accidently waking up people in the hotel.

  
"Y'all think that there are gonna be some cars at that base? I have my doubts, but hey. Whaddya think?" McCree looked at the many faces of his friends. Tracer, Mercy, Reinhardt, Torbjorn, Winston...he was overjoyed that the recall had been sent out. He had to be honest--he even missed Athena. The computer was like a man or woman with a huge brain, only smarter.

  
"Why didn't any of us decide to bring a car? I mean, I understand how we couldn't have. But Jesse, shouldn't you have a car?" Torbjörn grumbled, dragging one of Reinhardt's bags on the ground behind him. It left trampled grass in its wake.

  
"When yer on the run, and I ask "shouldn't you have a car," what are ya gunna reply with?" McCree didn't wait for an answer, "that you were on the run and had no chance. Did ya expect me to have a car? Besides, we've got other things to worry about. Like-"

  
"Hanzo, for example. Talon, for example. Reaper, for example. How we can keep this a secret, for example." Tracer cheerfully said, zipping past them and spinning around to face them, waiting for them to catch up.

"What she said." McCree said, a quiet laugh coming from Mercy. His heart felt warm from the laugh. It reminded him of an angel, and an angel reminded him of Mercy. He wasn't interested in the doctor in a love kind of way.

"To answer your question, no. I doubt there will be any cars. The chances of there being a car is slim, even just a single one. I believe we will need to buy a car." Mercy told them, "if we cannot buy a car, like an 18 passenger car or something, then we can but multiple cars. Bikes could work to, but it would be safer to be in a car." Mercy removed her staff from her bag, twirling it around out of, what McCree thought, was boredom.

  
"Hides our identity if we are in a car. Good thinkin', doc." Street lights hung above them, the spot where the light came from looking like an abyss. The air smelled of gas that faded away, signaling that someone  far away must have a campfire, or a barbecue set up. "Means we're gettin' farther from civilization."

  
"I could go for some water and food." Reinhardt said, his voice slightly parched from the lack of water.

  
"You have a water bottle, big guy. Don't ya?" McCree pointed to the bag that Reinhardt held.

  
"I don't feel like getting it."

  
"Typical Reinhardt." McCree chuckled, walking toward the high hill. It was steep and green--perfectly cut grass covering the hill. If McCree was perched at the edge of it, he would see the base below. "So, I was just wonderin'...we goin' back to our old dorms? We cleanin' the place up?" His voice was parched, just like Reinhardt's. He also felt lazy at the moment--wanting to see the base way too bad.

  
"Yes, we will be cleaning the place up. If we have visitors, we best leave it clean." Mercy held her staff to her side, her fingers tightly gripping the steel weapon.

  
"Who the fuck is gonna come visit? The army? Fuckin' Talon?" McCree stifled a laugh, lighting another one of his cigars. He blew the smoke out, closing his eyes before it could fly into his eyes.

  
"Always need a clean base for an unfriendly visit." Winston said, his knuckles dragging against the ground. Joyful laughter flew out from the crowd of friends, soon becoming just a whisper in the wind after a moment.

  
"What he said." Mercy said, a small mischievous smirk being sent McCree's way. The fact that it seemed mischievous confused him.

  
"Whatever. That's just weird." McCree replied, "but I don't have to contribute? I'm feelin' as dead as the damn desert here." If McCree said something strange, he had no clue what it was. Everyone took glances at him. "What? Am I speakin' Japanese? Have I finally lost my mind? Am I an alien?"

  
"As dead as the desert. What the hell does that mean?" Torbjörn grumbled, readjusting the bag hanging from his shoulder.

  
"Southern slang, pal. Y'all wouldn't understand. Fuck this team." McCree snickered, tossing one of the bags he held in the air and swiping it back to his body. "We gettin' new com links too?" Winston looked back at him with a confused look. "I'm talkin' Japanese, ain't I?"

  
"No, I am just curious as to why you would ask that. If I sent you on a mission, how would you communicate to us? We can barely use a phone without Talon being on our behinds." It was true. If they used a phone, Talon always showed up moments later. _"It must be a tracking device. Maybe we should be cautious as to when to use it and when not to use it_. _"_ Genji had informed them before his departure. They took his word for it, deciding to only use it for emergencies.

  
They had made it to the hill, looking toward the base. The shadow of the cliff loomed over the entire base, making it seem like a building covered in a blanket.

  
_"Our fancy little base," Gabriel told Jesse, standing next to the Deadlock Gang boy, with an arm around his shoulders. It made Jesse feel safe._  


  
_"It's cool." Jesse said, in awe at the beautiful trees and shrubs gathered around the structure, "let's go down there!"_  


  
_"Pff. Not today, kid. Tomorrow instead. There is no reason to go down there just yet. Trust me, you'll love it inside." Jesse covered his mouth so he would not laugh, nearly making a "that's what she said" joke._  


  
McCree snapped to attention when he heard the gasps from all his friends, their mouths hanging open in shock. His foot sat on the very edge of the hill. "Thank Athena that it's summer. Otherwise, we'd be a popsicle up here."  He dug his heel into the dirt, marking the spot that he and Gabriel had once stood on.  It was too long ago.

  
The wind blew lightly, sending the grass leaning toward the amazed team. "Well, what are we waitin' for?" McCree said, "it's got a way better look inside."

  
"You have been in there before? Not too long ago, I mean?" Mercy asked quickly, following McCree as he casually walked down the steep ramp.

  
"Yup. Reminds me of, uh..." He cleared his throat, trying to have Mercy pick up on who he meant.

  
"Oh...Oh. I see. I am excited to be coming here again. I have seen pictures, and have only been in my own dorm. Plus the halls, but that is all." Tracer zipped past the team again, making her way to the front entrance. A knocked over billboard was in the way of the door, which they had Reinhardt move.

  
The team made their way in, looking at the large room presented to them. McCree remembered this room. He and Gabriel had named it the Main Entrance. A very normal name--not unique. The dust piled up on anything it could find: boxes, thick wires, chairs, desks, tables, etc.

  
And the feeling had returned. The cold feeling of someone watching him. But whom? By the time McCree came to his senses, the group had moved on.

  
"Don't worry, love! We'll be back in a bit, if you are just going to stick around there!" Tracer said, zipping around the corner. He didn't follow. He didn't move. McCree didn't dare to move. Was it Hanzo, or maybe a lost dog? Maybe even some random animal? No. It had to be a person. Someone who had created that strange symbol on his arm.

  
He didn't hear the strangely familiar sound of a gun being dropped to the ground. He didn't hear the loud footsteps behind him. And he certainly didn't feel the sharp pain that gathered into his arm--for the moment. Then, he felt it.

  
McCree leaped to his left with surprise, his voice being caught by nothing in his throat. He couldn't speak, and he couldn't yell. In front of him stood the owl--the man of his nightmares. Reaper. His conscious reminded him. Reaper said something that McCree found inaudible, and proceeded to duck and roll behind a table, just as the shotgun had been pointed at him. The raging sound of a shotgun being fired echoed into McCree's mind. It was sure to leave a mark unable to be seen in his hearing. The ringing refused to halt as he stood up. He pulled his Peacekeeper out, aiming it straight at the owl.

  
_"Are you alright, Jesse? Do you need assistance?"_ That damned voice. McCree pulled the trigger, the shot making him tumble back in surprise. He hadn't shot in a while, making him feel rusty. He only had 5 bullets left, having not carried extra ammo with him. The gunshot echoed in the room. It was sure to have alarmed the others, right? McCree cursed under his breath, ducking into a smaller room nearby.

  
"You can't hide, ingrate. I will always find you." The voice sent shivers down McCree's spine, making him spin around. He aimed at the door, seeing the shadow of the Reaper start to approach the room with a slow speed. McCree's phone silently dinged in his pocket. He was curious as to who texted him, but he refused to check.

  
He didn't hear the sound of a whistle, but definitely not the kind you would hear from a coach. It was the sound of an arrow being shot. And McCree was drawn to those words. _An arrow_.

  
The Reaper let out a menacing scream as something pierced his shoulder, a strange black liquid flying from his shoulder. The screech was of a banshee, and it scared the hell out of McCree. The Reaper's arm turned into the black mist that McCree had seen in photographs before. His entire body became it, the arrow dropping to the ground with a _thud_. McCree made his way to the arrow, picking it up. The doors busted open, revealing his friends, who had just missed the owl.

  
"We heard a gunshot! Everything alright?!" Torbjörn shouted, drones filling the room. _Must've set them all back up. Huh. How did he do it so fast?_  


  
"Er...yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." McCree stared at the arrow in his hand, inspecting the end. The black liquid that Reaper had bled was on the end. "Any of y'all happen to know how to shoot a bow?" The looks sent to each other told McCree that nobody had a clue.

  
"I believe I know of someone who does know how..." Mercy said softly. Her eyes went wide and she ran to McCree's side, seeing the wound. "Genji's brother uses a bow." She informed him, moving his arm to see. She let out a shocked gasp, using one hand to cover her mouth. "Oh...no..." She whispered.

  
"What? What?!" McCree twisted his arm from her grip, taking a look at his arm for himself. His eyes went wide when he saw the wound. "Well...shit." He said, his voice not fast, but not slow. He let out a fake laugh. "What the fuck?!" He snapped. He had done nothing, and he was given this?

  
"McCree, remember the pro-" McCree's hand flew up faster than he could say " _cowboy_." He twisted the object out of his arm, throwing it to the ground with the arrow. He stomped on both, letting it break and crumple underneath his boot.

  
"Fuck the promise, doc. Hell." He swiped a hand across his hair, looking at anything above him. "Fucker..." He snarled. "This shit wants a battle, then he's gonna have one."

  
"You promised Genji!"

  
"It's like a first date, doc! His brother shot me! I ain't trustin' him!" McCree shouted, staring at the remains of both of the arrows. Hanzo had shot him. That's why his arm hurt so bad. But how did he not notice?

  
The noise of something hitting the floor (like a pin dropping) sounded across the room. Another arrow had landed next to McCree's foot, making him twist himself out of the way. Realization hit him as he realized exactly why it had been shot.

  
It was a warning shot. Whoever (and it probably was Hanzo) that shot at McCree wanted to kill him. "He wants a contest? Well, he'll get one..." McCree growled. "Why don't ya come out, pardner? See if we can work this out." He shouted, his eyes checking ever little nook and cranny.

  
A small tap sounded from behind them. McCree spun around, seeing the arrow aimed at his face as the first thing to be presented. The male stood behind the bow, McCree becoming tempted to call him a coward. The male scowled, the string pulled back and ready to bring down its next victim.

  
"Where is my brother?!" He shouted. McCree knew exactly what he would say to Genji when he had arrived, back from Nepal: _Promise broken._  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading Chapter 2 of The Final Thought!  
> High apologies that there has been no update for a while now. I have other projects (outside of writing) that I must work on. I will do my best to get Chapter 3 out this week.

" _Where is he_?!"

Hanzo's voice had grown louder, making McCree jump from the unwanted surprise. Hanzo's face was stern, and was someone who clearly didn't have benevolence. The chances of Hanzo being the benign type were slim to McCree. He couldn't think of what to say to the archer, nor could he even dare to tell him where Genji was. The arrows were brittle like plastic, so McCree could lean in sneakily and snatch the arrow.

"Now, now. No need to become Mr. Badguy, archer. Let me be candor h-here and, uh..." McCree's voice faltered as the archer sent his gaze to him. It was of a hostile one, and had barely any emotion to it. Enough to scare a damn bear. Hanzo gave McCree a glare, that clearly told him to start talking. "So, er...don't start a carnage, but uh...your brother, Genji, ain't here at the moment." McCree stepped back immediately, bracing for impact. Hanzo didn't speak, nor did he lower his bow. McCree took the time to check him out; prosthetics, a single glove, a long tattoo that snaked down Hanzo's left arm, and a strange piece of clothing that only covered half of Hanzo's chest. If they wanted to live, chances are, they had to coax the sharpshooter.

"Gone?" Hanzo lowered his bow cautiously, keeping the arrow pointed at McCree's foot, "explain."

"Well, ya see-"

" _Not_ from you." Hanzo gave him a death glare, then looked past the gunslinger, and toward Mercy. "I will trust you for now. You are a medic, are you not? Explain to me as to why my brother is gone." McCree didn't understand why the dark eyed archer took a disliking to him already (McCree guessed he did). Mercy went ahead and explained as best as she could, her voice a little shaky, but clarion, while communicating. When she had finished, Hanzo seemed to be taking it all in.

"Hmph. Then I have no reason to be here." Hanzo said, his voice softening a tad.

"Genji wants ya to stay here, partner. Besides, you shot me in the fucking arm. I'll coerce ya to stay if I gotta. Ya comprehend?" Hanzo let out a gruff sound, standing up straight and letting his bow face the floor, "thanks for that, by the way."

"You are welcome."

"Was bein' sarcastic, holy shit." McCree rubbed his forehead with his gloved hand, wincing at the pain in his arm. "Givin' in because yer out numbered or somethin'?"

"Because you are Genji's friends. I am surprised that someone like you is. So I put confide in all of you." McCree opened his mouth to thank him once more, but Hanzo beat him to the punch of talking. " _Except_ you." He pointed at McCree.

"You fuckin' asshole. Got it from the family father or some shit?" Hanzo's chocolate colored eyes widened in shock. Mercy tugged McCree's plaid shirt, trying to warn him not to go so far. "We meetin' a concordant here? Yeah? Great." He was irritated at the archer. He could _not_ see how him and Genji were related.

"You do not speak of my family!" Hanzo growled, his knuckles turning white from gripping the bow. Reinhardt clapped a hand onto McCree's shoulder, nearly knocking the wind out of his lungs.  He let out a booming laugh that echoed across the room, being lost in the air.

"McCree doesn't know what he is talking about! He can easily start a fight with someone new, so don't worry about him! We can comprise you into the family..." He awaited a response. Hanzo stared at Reinhardt for a moment, watching as his hand flew up, waiting for Hanzo to shake it.

"...Shimada Hanzo." He rejected the shake, letting Reinhardt drop his hand. McCree blew air out of his mouth and Hanzo winced.

"Well, partner, I reckon we are on the same page now. How 'bout tellin' us yer story?" Hanzo snorted and strung his bow around himself, crossing his arms.

"Stop it."

"Er...stop what?"

"Talking like that. You talk as if you do not know proper English." McCree shifted uncomfortably on the soles of his feet. _Asshole_. He thought.

"Fuck you too. Just because I don't speak "normally" don't mean I don't know English, pal. Am I speaking Japanese?" He growled, "why don't ya, conjure some English up for me, pardner? I think it'll do us both a big favor." He felt like a jerk, but then again, he didn't care. The air was still; the silence overwhelming. "I mean, don't condone over what I-"

" _Damarinasi_!" Hanzo snarled, his amber eyes staring right into McCree's eyes. His heart jumped to his throat. Had he spoken Japanese? If so, what had he said? He didn't feel like asking, for his death bed would be on the ground of the base if he continued to speak. McCree never wanted to start a contention with the archer, neither did he want to be yelled at by him, but he had no choice now. " _A contemptible archer. Don't trust him_." His conscious told him.

"Do you mind if you translate that?" Mercy mumbled. Hanzo didn't reply, and instead, walked by all of them.

"I must stay here and await for my brother. I do not wish to be bothered."

"Mind helpin'-"

"I thought I _told_ you..." Hanzo stopped walking and looked at McCree over his shoulder, the look reminding McCree of a wolf in a cage. He stopped speaking, clearly showing that he showed no mercy. McCree gulped and stopped speaking, wanting to contrite to Hanzo. The two of them seemed contrary when you compared them.

"Look, archer. The fact that ya ain't being so cordial is just..." McCree scoffed, "I suggest you become friendly if yer gonna be here, pal." Hanzo spun around on the sole of his prosthetic, walking toward McCree menacingly. He stopped a few feet away, his eyes studying McCree. "I can tell we've got no correlation with each other, but uh..." He coughed, needing assistance from his friends. Nobody spoke a word. His friends could not give him the assistance he so dearly needed.

"Are you done, _baka_?" McCree stared back at the sharpshooter, blinking in confusion. _Baka? The hells a baka_? He wanted to know, but at once, he did not. To his credo, he thought it probably meant " _dumbass_ " or possibly, " _fool_."

"Well, just wanted to know-" Hanzo let out a rough sigh, immediately shutting him up. "Aight. Never mind. I mean, I could show ya around, archer. There are some currants in Angela's bag if you want 'em..." He trailed off when Hanzo walked toward the door across the giant room. McCree followed with no choice in his mind. "Can I call ya, uh...Katniss?" He cocked his head. Katniss; the archer from _Hunger Games_. Sure, it was a female name to a female organism, but at least the two had something in common.

"...Katniss? The female archer from the _Hunger Games_? You offend me." Hanzo replied, pushing the door open that squeaked against the ground. It slammed closed behind McCree, nearly startling him. It had never been that loud before. McCree shrugged to himself, catching up to the archer to walk beside them.

"Aight. Well, then I ain't gonna call ya Katniss." He snapped his fingers, an idea coming to his wise mind, "got it! How 'bout Scythian." Hanzo opened his mouth to object, but nothing came out. He closed it, glaring at the gunslinger.

"You will call me Hanzo, or so _help_ -"

"Scythian it is." A Scythian; people who were great at archery. McCree had heard of them before, and Hanzo reminded him of them. "Look, Scythian, this place is decrepit. Mind helpin' yer pals out?" Hanzo let out a chuckle, which surprised McCree, until he realized that it was a sarcastic one. It seemed as if Hanzo laughing was defunct. Silence enveloped them, and McCree planned on breaking it. He whistled, then wrapped an arm around the archer, who bumped it away.

"You are not my pals." Hanzo grumbled. "Your name is McCree. What kind of name is McCree? You must demean your friends, do you not?" Hanzo suddenly asked, stopping in the middle of the corridor. He faced McCree, his jaw lined with dark brown hair for a beard. He seemed to be sweating, some of it even dripping off of McCree's face. McCree rubbed his neck from Hanzo's stare. He, for one, loved his name. Jesse McCree, known outlaw.

"Jesse is my first name." He ignored the insulting question that Hanzo had asked, "But call me McCree, darlin'. What kind of name is _Hanzo_?" He sassily replied, hearing Hanzo grunt in response. He continued down the hall, McCree following. "Reckon I should show ya the cafeteria first? We'll demure ya a room, if you'd like." He walked ahead of the archer, his spurs jingling.

He took notice of Hanzo's bow for the fifth time that day, questioning it. "Must be deft with that bow, hm?" He poked it, and Hanzo immediately snapped his fingers to get McCree's attention to him. "Well, I'm mighty sorry."

"I am." McCree blinked in confusion, "I am skilled with a bow." Hanzo finished, his eyes watching McCree carefully. He felt insecure under the gaze. He must be delving him, at least, that is what he believed. Hanzo had a strong demeanor; one that confused McCree. At one moment, he would be reluctant to be hostile. Another moment, he was hostile. The halls made McCree feel dense with Hanzo. If he was claustrophobic, he would have been deranged at this point.

"Couldn't have guessed it myself, Scythian. Cafeteria is just up thataway." Hanzo stared at him in confusion, deriding at him, and walking by him down the hall to the left and into the cafeteria. "A derby would suit you. You could use some derision on me, pardner." McCree welcomed the air in the large cafeteria. Dust covered everything it could find. "Place has been desolated. Looks like hell. Damn." He had an awful detest for his surroundings, especially that it smelt of burnt food, with smoke in the air around it. As if McCree had a bubble around him, it felt as if there was a devoid around him. The walls were cracked with deep gashes and holes, as if someone failed to hammer a painting into a wall. Dimples lined spots in the walls, and he took note of them. "Hey, Ha- Scythian." He corrected himself immediately, praying that Hanzo didn't see the fuck up, "you are a discreet person. Mind givin' some tips to fix this place up?"

"I will be busy, so I believe I cannot assist you. I thank you for giving me such compliments, cowboy. I will agree that I am a diplomatic person." Hanzo inspected the walls, seeming to have calmed down after a while. That didn't stop McCree from hating him.

He wanted to have a good discourse with the archer, but he acted like there was a damn stick up his ass. "I do not wish to assist you of all people. But, I can inform you that this place must be dismantled slowly if you want it to be proper again. Someone like you could get the job done?" Hanzo looked at McCree, seemingly to have just disparaged the cowboy.

"Are ya tryin' to start a dispute? Look, I just asked for help. Not for some fucked up man, who attempted to kill his kin for his own sake, boss me around.." McCree snarled, feeling like something had just erupted from him. Hanzo's eyes went wide, then he glared at McCree, his eyes darkening. He opened his mouth to speak, but McCree beat him to the punch, "ya got a problem with me now? You've had one since ya met me. I want to meet a dissent with ya, but I reckon that wont happen, now will it?" Hanzo let out an angry growl before whirling around and leaving the room, door slamming shut behind him. The argument was quick lived, which McCree thanked Hanzo for. He didn't want to start an argument with someone who could definitely kick his ass, even if he was shorter. He huffed, puffing his chest out and deciding to tidy the place up a tad.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

McCree had moved outside, having done part of the cafeteria. His arms were weak, and he was on watch for Talon. Best time to be chosen, right? Dissonance would flood from one ear, to the other, alike to a flowing river. He missed the ninja, Genji, and wanted him to take care of Hanzo. McCree felt tiny compared to the archer, who was definitely proven to be an outstanding person. He still hated Scythian though. He distend his arms, letting out a yawn and rubbing his aching biceps. He was on the roof of the thick and tall 4-storied building. His thoughts came to an abrupt pause when the door behind him opened. He hoped that it wasn't Hanzo; that maybe, Hanzo was dormant. _Always wrong. Stop tryin'._

He wanted to divest the archer that walked up to him, sitting down with a cup of (what McCree thought was) tea. Another one of Hanzo's phases, where he'd be docile. McCree cleared his throat, tipping his hat.

"Scythian." He stated simply, looking toward the ground below. Hanzo hummed in response, McCree awaiting an apology. Maybe just a " _I'm sorry for being a dick to you earlier_." But no apology came forth. McCree snorted, catching the attention of the archer, "up here why? Ain't gonna apologize, I suggest ya get your tail between your legs and take a hike." Hanzo snorted in response, just like how McCree did. "Ya remind me of a dragon, y'know? A dick, just like one. Stubborn as well."

"Pardon me." Hanzo grumbled in reply, taking a quick sip of his tea. He divulged the hidden tie that tied his hair, letting it flow down his arm. "I do not have a tail."

"Nobody does. But the fact that you remind me of a dragon, and that you act like one, tells me ya got a hidden tail. It's a sayin', Scythian. Ya wouldn't get it." Hanzo was drab, but at the same time, was not. McCree was droll, but at the same time, was not. Not that he minded. "You are bein' a real diversion right now, I'll give ya that. Would recommend ya get lost." Hanzo let out a dull sigh, his attention now fully on McCree. He stared at him, and McCree was aware of it, even without looking at the archer, "Yer never docile. Yer always hostile. Yer never calm. Ya always got your panties in a knot." Hanzo shook his head and didn't dare speak. Another phase: he wouldn't speak. Would only nod with attention, or shake his head. It annoyed McCree whenever this happened.

 

"Damn you are one dreary guy, Scythian. You dross life, don'tcha?" He could tell Hanzo found his accent annoying, so he decided to step it up a notch. The sky turned a light pink, the sun setting behind the mountains. The shadows were a great ebony, hiding anything it could find in its darkness. McCree dwelled on how long it would take until they could actually use the base again. His legs rested against eaves on the building, silence corrupting the area around Hanzo and him. Maybe, just maybe, to get along, Hanzo could edify McCree on Japan. He actually didn't know where it was, since he dropped out of school at a young age. "...Where is Japan?"

Almost immediately, Hanzo replied. "You are a fool. How do you not know the answer to a simple question? Did you happen to have dropped out of school?" McCree nodded, and Hanzo grumbled. "It explains a lot, gunslinger." He took it as an insult and snorted.

"Ha-ha. Shut the fuck up, _Scythian_." He was being earnest from telling Hanzo to shut up. It would surprise him if Hanzo had actually listened. Hanzo emanated a strange smell--green tea and coconut? A strange combination to say the least, but McCree liked it.

It had been quiet for a while, the birds chirping stopping it from becoming awkward. Neither of them were paying much attention, which was a benefit to McCree. Then again, he was supposed to be focusing on his job: make sure nobody else gets in. Make sure no Talon members, or people trying to assassinate them, were trying to get in. He needed company, but did not want to spend it with Hanzo. Hanzo's voice cut through his ears like a blade, making him perk up in attention.

"Japan is off the coast of Eastern Asia, near South and North Korea. It is in the Pacific Ocean." McCree was surprised that Hanzo had not eluded the question. "My home was there, as you may know. Hanamura?" He said it more of a question, than a statement. McCree nodded, saying that he had heard of Hanamura.

"Genji told me that y'all lived there for quite a while. Reckon ya didn't have a bar?" Hanzo let out a low grumble in his chest, sipping his tea again. He gulped it down, but seemed to not catch McCree staring at him.

"You must be a barfly then." Words caught in McCree's throat, and he did not know how to respond. _A barfly_? It was a new word to him, but he had a feeling he knew what it meant. The confused look on his face told Hanzo that he was questioning what he had said. "A barfly is someone who visits bars often. Drinks at them usually." If someone would ask McCree what he thought of Hanzo, the first words that would come from his mouth would have to be, "A barn burner." He still took a disliking to the archer though. From enemies to friends, from friends...to what? Lovers? Last time McCree checked, he was _not_ gay, nor was he bisexual. At least he did not think so.

"Er...yeah, Scythian. I am?" Hanzo nodded quietly, staring at the ground below. Archery was a very eminent skill, and Hanzo seemed to be good at it. "I did say this earlier, partner, but uh...can you leave? Please? Rather not be bothered by someone like you." Hanzo's eyes flickered directly to McCree, making him feel self-conscious. "Got some exertion that I need to get done, and yer ruinin' it." Hanzo started to stand, his feet clicking the ground. He held the empty cup of tea to his side.

"I apologize." McCree went to speak, but stopped himself this time. "Our first meeting went how you did not want it to go. Genji would disapprove of me, and I would not care. If I had a list, I would mark you as annoying. We are on the same team now, in a way. But that does not mean I will give someone like you any mercy. My brother may not be here, but my strength is. Do not test me, Jesse McCree. My arrowhead  _will_ be the last thing you witness." He spun around and walked toward the door, slamming it shut behind him. McCree had stared at him as he left, his heart tingling with fear. But there was a feeling deep in his chest, waiting to come out. Hanzo's words repeated in his head like a broken video tape; " _Do not test me, Jesse McCree. My arrowhead will be the last thing you witness_." If McCree had not been originally afraid of Hanzo, he definitely was now.

Something brushed against McCree's arm, making him jump in surprise. He looked at his gloved hand, seeing a blue snake-like animal slither around it. It was a light blue, like the sky, with lightning crackling around it. Its eyes a perfect white, alike to a cloud. Its whiskers brushed McCree's skin, and it stared at him as he stared back. It slipped away from him, floating into the air without any wings. It nuzzled against McCree's messy beard, then flew into the air and somehow pushed his hat over his eyes. When he had readjusted his hat, it felt heavier than before, but the animal had vanished. He was confused, and wanted to ask Hanzo about it. It had shown up after Hanzo had left, so maybe he did have something to do with it. McCree expunged his gun from its holster, making sure it was clean. The task he had was boring, and he wanted to leave as soon as possible. In about ten more minutes, Lena would be taking his role of watching. Thankfully, those minutes would pass by quickly.

When Lena had shown up, she pointed at McCree's hat and laughed. "Love, looks like ya got a problem!" She cheerfully said. McCree immediately took his hat off, it feeling heavier than how it usually was. Curled around it was the same animal he had seen, but it was asleep. The tail moved from left to right like the wind, but it did not wake up. Lena muttered something under her breath, then walked by him. He could have sworn she had mentioned Genji. Deciding not to wake up the poor creature, he placed his hat back on and walked into the building. He let out expletives every time he nearly tripped over a broken plank of wood, or a piece of heavy and thick glass. He walked by multiple rooms that were very expanse--the rooms they would sleep in. Was bringing Overwatch back really worth it?

McCree walked into the used-to-be kitchen (which would become the kitchen). Reinhardt, Torbjörn, and Hanzo were there. They seemed to be discussing something with Athena; about the next mission that would be held weeks later. He let out a whistle, one that would catch attention, and everyone turned toward him. Hanzo's face seemed to flash red, and the other two stared at his hat. "Morning, fellas."

" _Guten Morgen_." Reinhardt replied. He pointed at his hat and cocked his head. "I believe there is a problem?" McCree nodded and took his hat off, the animal stirring from the movement. Its head raised, looked at Hanzo, then flew away from McCree's hat, and into the air. Hanzo stared at it intently, but the animal refused to look back. It flew around McCree's neck, then came to rest on one of his shoulders. It nudged its head against his jaw.

"I have no clue what it is, but I ain't complainin'. Finally gettin' _some_ love." He said, glancing at Hanzo. The archer grunted and looked away, continuing to have the conversation about an upcoming mission. Then, he spun around and marched McCree out of the room, McCree catching Torbjörn and Reinhardt grinning and glancing at each other. "Woah, woah! 'Least take me out on a date first, darlin'!" McCree said, being shoved right outside of the kitchen. The animal flew from him and to Hanzo, wrapping itself around his neck. The animal was thick and long, and Hanzo started to talk to it in Japanese.

As Hanzo spoke, McCree heard " _Asgata_ " being spoken. He had the knowledge of knowing that McCree did not understand them. It let out a whine as if to say sorry, and kept itself at bay around Hanzo's neck. He grunted and looked straight at McCree, who stepped back. "Even _Purotekuta_ listens better than you do. I do not say this to make you upset, but listen more often." He said in English.

"This is an exultation for me, honestly. The hell are you speaking about? You act like it can speak." Hanzo stared at McCree calmly.

"It is Japanese. Someone who does not even know where Japan is located would not know our language." Hanzo replied, "do not question me about this." He motioned to the blue dragon around his neck. He said something in Japanese, and the other dragon, Purotekuta, nuzzled against his back after appearing. "They are dragons; ancient creatures from myths you have most likely heard. They obey me." Asgata meant dawn, while Purotekuta meant protector. Purotekuta guarded Hanzo the most, while Asgata acted like Genji. Disobeys, and does not do a great job of protecting.

"Dragons? Thought they weren't real. And they listen to you? Damn. Genji mentioned dragons once, and even sometimes randomly said the name "Enkatsu," but I never asked. _Enkatsu_ , meaning harmony, was Genji's dragon.

McCree pointed to the kitchen, and his smile turned into a grin. Hanzo frowned. "Reinhardt slays dragons." Hanzo's eyes went wide, then squinted at McCree. His eyes became sharp like a blade. It cut through him like silk. "I fathom if yer mad now, but I wasn't bein' serious?" He didn't want his friend to be murdered by a..."newcomer."

"You were being sarcastic?" McCree nodded, "so you feign to make me mad?"

"What? Naw. Never. Who am I to be like that?"

"You are Jesse McCree." McCree held in a laugh at how serious Hanzo was being.

"Put makeup on me and call me Eastwood, if ya ain't the funniest thing." McCree said, letting his laugh roar from his chest. Hanzo was obviously confused. "Ya got some wise way of facetious, Scythian." The dragon, Asgata, that was once wrapped around Hanzo's neck, moved back to McCree. It let out a strange sound--like a chirp--and flew around him. Hanzo looked flagrant, being unable to do anything.

"Do not mention the dragons to anyone. My brother, you can. But nobody else. Understood?" Hanzo gave him a glare, and McCree gave him a thumbs-up.

"Ya got it, boss." He jokingly said. Hanzo grunted and put his hand out for Asgata. It stayed by McCree. Hanzo started to snap at the dragon, yelling in Japanese. It pressed itself to McCree, and it shivered in fear. "Well now. Calm down, Scythian. Its scared as fuck and yer straight up lecturing it? Some owner, am I right? Flaunting yer dragons, then yellin' at 'em." He nearly forgot why he disliked the archer.

He couldn't help but bring his hand out, letting the dragon swim around it. It curled around his arm tightly, resting its head on McCree's hand. The other dragon, Purotekuta, swam around Hanzo's neck, coming to rest after a moment. "So, this one on me...It disobeys? Reminds me of Genji. What color was his dragon any way?"

"Green."

"So like that dragon from Dragon Ball Z?" Hanzo snorted and shook his head. "Y'know, Shimron I think? Whatever the name was." McCree laughed, but Hanzo refused to. "Nice sense of humor, Scythian. Fuckin' enjoyable to have ya around."

"You sound irritated." McCree scoffed and his arms flew in the air, completely forgetting about the dragon curled on the prosthetic. He apologized quietly, then hung his arm back to his side. He wanted to reply sassily, but didn't want to get on Hanzo's bad side again. Putting it into thought, he was already on his bad side. It surprised him that the archer was answering his slightly private questions.

"Well shit. Maybe I am?" He grumbled. The dragon around his prosthetic soon flew away, playing around with its sibling. "The dragons ain't as fickle as you. Pretty flamboyant if ya ask me though." McCree snickered at the two dragons, letting them wander around the area. They weaved around the broken glass and splintered wood. Hanzo looked flagrant as they did so. "So you can summon 'em at will?" Hanzo shook his head, the scarf in his hair flying like the wind.

"No. I can ask for them, but they choose themselves to show or not. They usually show once or twice a week so that they get fresh air. But I only allow it once or twice, for it makes me weak after letting them out for so long. They are apart of me; apart of my mind and soul. It is never enough to make me collapse. Sometimes I wake up with them around me." Hanzo let out a bark of a Japanese word, and the dragons flew to him. They started to slowly vanish, until nothing was left. "Now, do us a favor, and leave." His sudden change of tone scared McCree, and he nodded.

"On it. Planned on it." He skedaddled, leaving the archer to do whatever he wished. McCree filched a few stones on the floor, carrying them with him to the outside of the base. He walked up the ramp, and sighed, letting out a hiss of pain at his shoulder. It had been bandaged by Mercy, but it wasn't the arrow wound. It was that damned mark. The random 'T' that had been "engraved" into his arm hurt like hell. He moved his shirt to see it better. It was still there, the 'T' being black. It reminded him of the strange figure he had seen. _Better talk to Mercy about it. Don't want that shit in my eyes._

What did it even mean? It had to stand for something.

McCree stood under a large tree, chucking rocks toward the base. He was tired, bored, and flustered. McCree hated Hanzo, but still talked to him. Hanzo hated McCree, but still talked to him. Frenemies, maybe? There was a frigid feeling in McCree's chest. Another one had made itself present, and he recognized it immediately. Fear. There was something near McCree. Could it be the figure he had seen? It was a formidable thing--nowhere near frisky. He stood up, hand on the handle of his gun. He spun around quickly, only to feel a sharp jab in his chest. McCree stumbled backwards, his arms flying in surprise. As he started to fall back to his demise, he witnessed a creature. A black leather cape, shotgun shells, gray boots, and a fearful mask.

McCree tumbled off the entire cliff, falling toward the long drop below. He couldn't scream. He couldn't shout. His vocal chords felt broken, and air caught in his windpipe. He watched the ground below come closer and closer, and he gritted his teeth. Then, he fainted. The final thing he felt was something slithering under both of his arms, making his fall feel like a feather in air.  
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_Beep...Beep...Beep...Beep._

McCree awoke to the sound of a machine playing the same sound over and over. His hat, gone. Serape, gone. Gun, gone.

There was someone else in the room (or something) that was breathing softly. He looked around the room, finding his hat on a seat. There was a dragon curled around it--the thicker one. What was its name? Perotekuta? It was the thinner and shorter one. McCree felt famished. His forte was weak. He stared at the dragon, who then unwrapped itself from the hat. It stared back at McCree, then flew up and sped out of the room. Mercy returned with Perotekuta, and she gasped.

"It nudged me and made me follow. How are you feeling?" She sat in the chair nearby, lifting up the hat and placing it on McCree's head. McCree shrugged, feeling no emotions at the moment. Was he scared? No. Was he upset? Nah. Was he happy? Nope.

"Better than I was when I got shot by Scythian." Mercy frowned in confusion. "Scythian is Hanzo." McCree added. He readjusted the hat, then stared at Mercy. "Somethin' shoved me off the cliff."

"That is what happened?! These strange two animals came to me with you above them. What shoved you off the cliff?" McCree faltered to answer, and stopped. He couldn't remember what, or who, the person was. Just a moment ago, he remembered. But now, he could not. All McCree could do was shrug. He wanted to save his energy, so he refused to speak. Answering felt futile. The person was gallant to shove someone like McCree off a cliff. But how did the dragons come back? How did they save him? "You fractured a bone in your arm. It is not really broken, just cracked. The gloved one, I mean. You will not be fighting for a while as it heals." Mercy walked out of the room, letting the door close behind him. It was silent now in the room, the only thing lighting it was Perotekuta. There was a window nearby, unbroken. It was nighttime outside. The stars twinkled in the sky, the moon glowing upon the base. Perotekuta was genial, same with Asgata. It made McCree happy that they saved him. He would have to thank Hanzo later.

McCree garnered his peacekeeper and serape, putting them on him. Peacekeeper--into its holster. Serape--around his shoulders. Perotekuta had a beautiful glamor He got off the bed, surprised that one of the machines had been working. He held his hand out, the dragon wrapping itself around it. He smiled and walked out of the room, heading toward all of the rooms they had. Each door had a letter engraved into it. He passed by multiple ones.

'R' for Reinhardt.

'T' for Torbjörn.

'G' for Genji (though it was not being occupied).

'A' for Angela.

'L' for Lena.

Then, he finally found it. 'H' for Hanzo. He quietly knocked on the door, wanting to return the dragon to him. A strong stench reached his nose. He couldn't tell what it was for some reason. It was strong and grisly. When no answer came through, he knocked again. No answer. He made his way in, opening the door. It creaked and quietly hit the door. The scream that McCree wanted to let out caught in his throat. That's why it smelt so bad...

McCree looked around the nearly dark room, blood splattered on the few things it could find. Was it blood? McCree stepped inside, his foot landing in a pile of ash. There was a burnt piece of wood by it, one used for meditation. But there was no sign of any organisms--no Hanzo.

The window was completely shattered, glass spread across the floor. He stepped over the wood and stone on the ground, walking straight to the window. He looked out the window, but there was nothing out there. Only the few trees and large rocks. Hanzo was guile, maybe he could just be playing a prank? No. Hanzo would not do that. He was hoping it would be halcyon here, but it was too good to be true. Movement behind him made him spin around. It sounded nearly like crying. McCree wished there was a light source, so that some witch from _Left 4 Dead_ did not jump out at him. To his hap, there was no witch. Instead, Hanzo's second dragon, Asgata, lied on the bed, curled around the quiver of arrows that Hanzo owned. McCree crept toward it, the dragon flying away from it when he picked it up. The arrows were still there, and his bow was nearby. Someone took Hanzo. McCree would find out who did, and he would get them. No matter how much he hated Hanzo, he was going to get his teammate back.

On the wall, shined by the moonlight, was a letter that sent chills down McCree's spine. He stared at it, but there was extra to it. It was a 'T,' but not just any 'T.' It was a symbol left by a mercenary of the group--the group that had taken Hanzo from them all.

It was Talon's symbol.


	3. Chapter 3

" _Gone_?! What do you mean gone?!" Winston's voice roared as he stared at the screen with Athena's symbol on it. Athena's voice crackled through the fixed speakers, informing the group of people.

"Agent Jesse McCree left last night. He has safely returned, as you can see. The security system has not been properly fixed, but I was able to get slight video of Hanzo Shimada." Athena said, her screen changing to black. The nearly broken camera hidden in the hall where Hanzo's room was showed a person in all black opening the door to Hanzo's room. It switched to another camera directly in front of Hanzo's room. The human walked into the room quietly, hasty to get to Hanzo's side. It seemed that Hanzo was lying in the bed, that he had probably cleaned off. The camera was not at the perfect angle to catch the entire room, but it was able to show the man and Hanzo. The man spun around, breaking the window with his fist. The noise awoke Hanzo, who was immediately ripped away from the bed. His head was slammed against the floor, faster than you could say "dragon." Nobody spoke as the video continued. McCree had even stopped breathing a few times from shock.

The man dragged the now unconscious Hanzo Shimada out the window, coming back inside to spray the Talon insignia: a diamond shape with a 'T' on the inside, the top part bending inwards, and the corners coming outwards. Those corners hung downwards, becoming sharp at the very end. Moments later in the video, about fifteen or so more minutes, McCree had walked in. Athena shut the video off, her symbol returning to the screen. No words were spoken as everyone sat there. But how did blood get on the furniture?

The dragon, Perotekuta, was still wrapped around McCree's wrist. It whimpered from the video, and pressed itself against McCree's arm. Asgata was at his side as well, wrapped around his waist with its head on top of his gloved hand. _Who in their right mind would do this_?! McCree thought. The only answer: Talon.

They needed to harmonize to save Hanzo, otherwise, Hanzo would be doomed. McCree led himself back to existence, finally hearing Athena again.

"A video had been sent to me earlier today, at 1:34 AM. The sender is unknown, the video the only thing that was sent. No username, and I have no ability to find out who sent it. Would you like me to show you?" Winston almost immediately nodded, and Athena's screen went black. The first thing that had popped up made everyone's hearts lunge to their lungs.

 _12:32_ AM

_"Well, well, well. Hanzo Shimada." The video showed Hanzo Shimada in a chair, tied to it. A man of Talon walked around him in a circle, seemingly getting closer and farther each time he circled around, "I thought it would be difficult to get someone like you, but it was fucking easy." His voice was haughty for a hazardous person. Hanzo stared at the ground, who had nothing to say. "You could be an asshole and not say anything, that's fine. I don't mind, really. There is a camera in here, you know. Everything we do to you; everything you do, will be sent to Overwatch without hesitation. You cannot escape--guards are at every damn corridor; every corner." The Talon man let out a laugh, "my name will remain unknown to you. My rank will be unknown; my appearance, my commander, etc." He stopped speaking, giving Hanzo a chance to speak. Nothing. Hanzo didn't speak a word, nor did he even look up at his kidnapper. "How do you think your brother would feel if he knew of your absence?"_

_"Shut up." Hanzo growled lowly, his teeth gritted through his speaking. He kept his head down, illicit to let himself seem ignoble. The Talon man let out a whistle, a laugh roaring from his throat. His voice was harsh and low--scratchy and annoying. He was not humane._

_The room was dimly lit; the walls concrete with a purple hue to them. It glowed, the shadow of the chair passing over the wall. Hanzo's hair was messy, but was still in its ponytail._

_Part of the clothes he wore was more down his shoulder, not above his shoulder any longer. His arms were tied behind him, connected to the chair with a red rope, while his feet were tied to the chairs with the same colored rope. A slight static noise was illimitable in the background._

_"Well, look who got some balls now." The man said, tapping his chin. Now that McCree looked, he wore a silver mask with two holes for eyes, and a sinister smile painted on it. His hair was curly and an espresso color. While it was easy to see the color in the video, it seemed harder for Hanzo to tell. He wore a black suit with a red and gray tie--patterned like a checker board--and he wore black dress shoes and normal blue denim jeans. The jeans did not fit the tuxedo, but it wasn't like he minded. "Seems like someone wants to be brave again. I'm surprised you are even talking." The man stopped his circling and stood in front of Hanzo. He kneeled, pressing one leg to the ground while the other knee pointed at Hanzo. "You look as mad as a hornet."_

_"Should I be overjoyed that I have been kidnapped? Should I be proud? Should I be screaming with joy, as if the ice cream truck just drove to my doorstep?" Hanzo snarled, refusing to look in the eyes of the Talon member. The man seemed to be observing Hanzo, and McCree even noticed his mask tilt downwards, as if he looked down. Then, Hanzo finally looked up. There was a deep scratch down his cheekbone to his chin, and a smaller cut on his forehead. One of his eyes were swollen shut--purple that was most obviously not eye bags deep under his swollen eye. It was his left eye that was shut. "Should I be glad that I had been knocked out in my own base? Glad that I had been dragged across glass? Joyed that I had been punched in the eye?"_

_"Should I be glad that you had nobody protecting you in your own base? Glad that you decided to be knocked out in a single hit? Pff. Oldest son of the Shimada clan? Puh-lease. The oldest son wouldn't be knocked out by a single hit, now would he? Guess you are weaker without your brother?" The man taunted. Hanzo stared at him, anger swimming in his eyes._

_The man stood up, his back straight. He spun a knife in his fingers. The handle was black with four holes, the one closest to the blade being the largest, and the one at the end of the handles being the smallest. The blade was at least eight to ten inches long. "Damn. If only I could tell you our plans. I cannot, because of the camera. Sure, I could turn it off for a moment, but how fun is that? You aren't impeccable, Hanzo. You have sinned, and you know it. You believe you are better than others, don't you? Everyone around you is in imperil, and you act like their imperious. You are immaterial." He was doing his best to bring Hanzo down, but Hanzo was strong._

_Hanzo sent him a glare and nodded his head. "I understand your jealousy, sir. It is implausible that you would agree with me, because you want to have the knowledge of knowing you are right. Your way of torture disappoints me." Hanzo taunted back, shaking his head. "You are a Talon agent? Prove it to me. I dare you. They will come for me and save me. You will see."_

_"And if they don't?" Hanzo went silent. "They have only known you for...what? Less than a day?  Why would they save you?" McCree wanted to stand and yell at the video about why they would save him, but he needed to see the rest of this. Hanzo was apart of their team for the moment, and McCree was willing to make sacrifices to save him. Sure, he did hate him, but he was selfless. "Because you are Genji's brother, and if they did not save you, he would kill them? That's got to be the only reason. I can not think of any other reason, pal." Hanzo's head hung down, his scarf dropping past his neck._

_There were no other words spoken for the few minutes they spent together--the man starting to walk around Hanzo once more, and Hanzo being silent. It was as if he as inanimate._

_A yell rang out of Hanzo's throat as a knife tore through his arm, the blade swept to cut a deep incision into his biceps. Incense rained in Hanzo's eyes, which closed tightly to hide his tears. The man let out a hoarse laugh, leaning down. He provoked Hanzo with the sinister mask, "are you crying?! Holy shit!" He rubbed his forehead from under the mask, then fixed it. "It inaugurates with a gash." He said in a sing-song kind of voice. He flicked the blade, blood flying off and onto the ground. He kneeled and pressed the blade to one side of the gash, then pressed his fingers to the other. He tore the cut open farther, Hanzo's fists gripping the arm rests. His teeth showed past his lips, being pressed together. His eyes stayed closed as a few tears went down his cheeks._

_The man, satisfied, stood up and snickered. He grabbed a radio and held it up to his mouth, "make sure Exemplification 182512 does not bleed out overnight. He'd better live." The man walked toward the video and pressed his finger to something on it. He moved the mask so that his mouth was shown. "See ya soon, Overwatch."_ And the video ended.

It was silent as Athena's symbol returned to the screen once more. No words were spoken.  McCree was incapable to speak, and let out a shaky breath. He didn't no what to say, nor did anyone else.

Then, Winston spoke, his voice echoing through the large, slightly not cleaned, room.

"We are going to have a mission to get Mr. Shimada back. Though this trouble is happening, w-we uh...found someone that may join us. Their name is Hana Song, a Korean pilot from, well...Korea. She may be able to accompany on the mission, depending on how skilled she is. Sending six people is our best plan. This mission will happen in at least two more weeks. We-"

" _Two_?! Two _fuckin_ ' weeks?! If those asshats are trying to control Hanzo, he would be doomed before we even get 'im!" His southern accent was starting to become stronger. He had lost his touch with it over the years, not knowing how. "It's fuckin' Thursday. Best if we get 'im on Saturday." McCree crossed his arms, leaning back into his chair. "Ya saw what they did. Ya saw what they _can_ do. And for _fucks_ sake, can ya find out what "Exemplification 182512" means?"

"Jesse."

"What?"

"Its Friday." Mercy revealed, her voice hushed. McCree shrugged.

"Sunday, then. Winston, you can plan a mission then, right?" Winston shook his head, and Athena's voice cut through the conversation.

"Agent Jesse McCree, it will take us a while to figure out where the base is. Approximately, two days. Then, we must figure out the plan. I suggest that you bring Reinhardt with you, and someone else who is good at protecting. Winston must stay back here with us, though."

McCree shrugged.

"Fine then. No reports of any Talon aircrafts over the night, though. So I'm thinking..." McCree cocked his head and tapped his chin, elbow against the table, "their shitty base ain't far from 'ere. Which means, this'll be easier than I thought. Everythin' is hunkey dorey then." McCree gripped a cigar in his pocket, glancing at the bow and quiver of arrows on a table nearby. "I'll go on the mission. Don't got any plans."

"As will I as well!" The knight boomed, letting out a laugh and slamming his fist down. "Talon does NOT know what they are in for!"

McCree wondered why some of the people there started to laugh at what Reinhardt had said. He snorted, halting the laughter.

"I ain't waitin' more than two days to save someone. If anythin', it'll be too late for us to save him. This process is gonna be as slow as a cooter, I tell ya." McCree stared at the screen where the video had just been He was indefinite of the fact that they would not be able to save Hanzo for a while. He would just have to wait longer, but there was no way he was patient enough. Would it be best if he sneaked out at night? Athena would be able to use the cameras to track his movement throughout the base, so that was not an option. She would indicate that he had left to Winston, and the team would be after him swiftly.

Winston tapped his fingers on the keyboard in front of him, possibly doing research on the video. "McCree, we have no other choice but to wait it out. Athena can figure out where the base was, and like said, it may take two days total. Then, we can set a plan and go after them."

"Fuck the plan, Winston! We've got no damn choice?!" McCree stood up, slamming his fist down, "bullshit we've got no choice. I ain't sittin' around, waitin' for more videos to pop up on the screen," he pointed to the screen, "while we are sittin' here and watchin' 'em." Mercy stood, her hand reaching toward McCree in an attempt to calm him down. She walked around the table she sat at, her heels clicking the ground as she spun McCree around and began to bring him out of the room. She held up a finger at everyone else, as if to say "one minute." Mercy led them out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

"Jesse," she began, "you need to calm down. We will get Hanzo back, one way or the other. We will complete this task as fast as possible, and you _must_ understand that.  I understand if you are going to be incredulous about this, but that is on you." Mercy's voice was strong as she scolded him.

"That's fuckin' _inconceivable_ , Mercy. _Very_ inconceivable. Yer right about somethin'." McCree rubbed his neck and let out an angry sigh, not wanting to have this conversation with the doctor. As he tried to leave, she moved in his way, stretching her arms out as if to spread wings and fly.

"You plan on leaving tonight, do you not?" She asked softly, "you want to leave to save Hanzo. Well, tonight, help us by fixing the base. Help us by cooperating." Her eyes stared into McCree's, like a cat's eye.

Her voice was soothing and calm, with a hint of worry. Fixing the base would not help Hanzo in any way. Sure, when he gets back, he would be able to do that meditating stuff, but in the state he is in now? Nothing would help him if they only cleaned the place up. "Have a better idea, Jesse?"

McCree thought over what he could do. One, save Hanzo at midnight tonight. Two, help out with the base and save Hanzo tomorrow night. Three, do what he is told. He ran a hand through his hair. "Naw. Naw, I don't." He concluded, walking straight into the room without another wood. He could hear the doctor saying " _That is what I thought_ ," in his head. He was injurious, and everyone, even Mercy, knew that. So knowing him, would he not do his best to get to Hanzo?

There could be an insidious person walking among them at this moment, and nobody would know. McCree sat at his seat again, his chin rested upon the palm of his hand. He let out an angry sigh, sick of everything that was happening. Sure, he hated Hanzo, but again, he was the brother of someone who was apart of the team. He was just as valuable as all of the other members on this team of theirs. McCree stood up, leaving the room to go to his. It wasn't as bad as Hanzo's; a few wood planks here and there, able to give splinters, stone blocks lied between several holes in the floor. Dust covered everything in the room, and it was mostly piled upon the bed. McCree made his way to the bed, and he first began with dusting it off.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, McCree awoke to a frantic Mercy running into his neatly clean room. He sat up with confusion as the doctor yelled and screamed at him. Tears soaked her cheeks and McCree stood, grabbing her wrists to calm her down.

"The hell happened, doc?" He asked as she calmed down. She fell to the ground, on her knees. McCree kneeled, looking her in the eyes. He needed to know what was going on. Hell, he would start an entire inquiry to figure out what was happening with the Swiss woman.

She calmly took deep breathes. In, out. In, out. Then, she spoke, "Talon sent a video. It was inopportune, because you were not awake. But...you _need_ to see for yourself. Jesse, I am so sorry...I am so sorry..." She repeated over and over. She stood up as McCree bolted out of the room. He made his way into the main room, where the last video had been watched.  The fact that the doctor was so panicked told him that it was an innuendo that something terrible happened. Mercy kept saying " _I'm sorry_..." over and over, like a record player. What was she so sorry about? If it was about Hanzo, then how could she be sorry? McCree hated that archer.

McCree sat down as the video began to play once more for him. The room had been cleared out, and he was all alone.

_4:32 AM_

_The same man as before walked into the room, his arms crossed over his chest. He was, again, walking around Hanzo. "We meet again, huh." He said as he chuckled, his voice now basso. "And I have a gift for you! Sounds great, doesn't it?"  
_  
 _"Go back to hell--where you belong." Hanzo sharply replied. He, again, was staring at the ground. The man wore a suit with a black tie, checkered with red and white. He wore the same mask as before, and wore dress shoes and dress pants to match with the suit._ _Hanzo's arm was wrapped with a bandage, blood showing on the white bandage. The man let out a hoot of laughter.  
  
"The same devil as always, Hanzo. You're funny." He walked toward a door, but stopped midway. He spun around, as if something had just tapped his shoulder. He truly was a mad man, "I must indicate that you do know what will happen if you decide not to listen? If you do not do what you are told? Abuse, right?" When Hanzo did not reply, he continued to talk, "how's your arm now? Bet that reminds you of the blood you spilled when you attacked-"  
  
"Do not speak his name!" Hanzo roared, immediately looking straight at his captor. The man looked shocked for a moment, showing it by leaning back as if surprised by a birthday party. It seemed to have been cleared away and he shook his head. The mask shifted just a bit, showing his dark chin._ _He readjusted the mask, but it was too late. They knew one thing about him.  
  
The man shook his head once more, moving his position to in front of Hanzo. He kneeled and cocked his head, like a bird becoming confused. "But aren't gifts the best?" The man had softened up. yesterday, he had been rude, but today, he was different. As if he had a split personality. "Everyone loves them. Especially when its one of those Christmas gifts that is huge!" Hanzo refused to reply, his eyes glaring daggers at the man that settled in front of him. "We are indomitable, Shimada. Infallible, industrious, insidious! The amount of words I can use that start with 'in!'" He let out a crazed laugh, "you need no insight on those facts. Now, ready for your present?" With no reply, the man squealed in delight. He let out a laugh and stood, running toward the metal door. The door was coated in dried up blood (why would it be red paint?). Hanzo watched him as he opened the door, showing a room with no light--only shadows. The man grunted, seeming to be carrying something heavy. As he walked out of the room, you could easily see the gigantic, black bag on his shoulder. By seeing its shape, there could be a person inside. The man had a strange intention to piss Hanzo off.  
  
He kneeled, placing the bag down in front of Hanzo. He used his knife to cut down part of the side. Ripping the bag open, a body appeared to be on its knees, staring blankly at the ground it sat on. Green light that lit the room, a gray cyborg body with no visor--anyone would know who it was.  
_  
 _Genji Shimada.  
  
Hanzo let out an angry roar, his arms restricting him from makin the guy only blood on the floor. He started to yell and scream in Japanese, knowing the man could not understand. Irreconcilable words. Hanzo was irreproachable, for this was the man's fault, not his. The man spun around and started to rummage through tools he had on a gray table that you would see at a hospital--the ones that carried a tray of syringes and medical tools. As he did, Genji slowly started to awaken--unknown to the man. Hanzo's eyes went wide and he immediately talked in Japanese. Because the man could not understand, Hanzo talked loudly. "Oh shut up, will ya?" The man grumbled, still going through a lime green bag that sat upon the table.  
  
Genji slowly stood, but he staggered. He was caught--grabbed--by another organism inside the room. The man held Genji hostage as Hanzo's captor spun around in surprise. "He woke up?!" He shouted in shock, running forward while spilling all of the contents in the bag to the floor. They clanked and fell on top of each other, interring a small scalpel. He growled lowly and looked at the few people in the room: Genji, Hanzo, and the other man. Somehow, the video had been unable to catch the man enter. Being able to only see the back, you could see that he had dark brown hair that was short, with a dark gray vest and a black long sleeved shirt. There was something on the vest that caused McCree's arms to stiffen.  
  
_"Cut the video, Athena. Pause it!" He said quickly. The video paused immediately. McCree squinted at the screen. He could barely see the insignia on the vest, only being able to see part of a circle. But something about it took interest into McCree.  
  
"Is something wrong, Agent McCree?" Athena asked. Her voice echoed through the walls--calm and powerful. Not intolerable.  
  
"Can ya brighten the screen just a tad? Doubt it'll work but..." He trailed off as she did so, brightening the screen to the point where it hurt his eyes. She lowered it, saying a quick apology. Then, McCree saw the symbol appear.   
  
The Blackwatch symbol.   
  
Many old soldiers from Blackwatch had moved one, going straight to Talon. But McCree realized who this one was--an old friend of his. His name was Zachary Jackson--one of Gabriel Reyes' favorite "students" among the sea of them. "Athena, keep the name Zachary Jackson in yer database for me." Athena hummed, signaling she had heard him. He let out a sigh and rubbed his sweating forehead. He had no idea what to say--no clue what to do. Hanzo, and now Genji? McCree could feel a headache beginning on the right side of his head. He rubbed that spot and moved his position in his chair. "Continue the video, Athena." He sounded reluctant, but went with it. The video continued to his command.  
  
 _Zachary dropped Genji onto the floor, walking away and to the table. Genji let out a groan and was lifted up by his hair. "Y'all are weak." Zachary said, letting go of Genji completely and moving away from him. "What is Reaper's intentions..." he grumbled quietly. There was an interlude--every sound being like a ghost. Reaper was involved with their capture, yet, he was only a mercenary. Hanzo's face was showing he was irate; his brows furrowed, and his lips in a frown. His teeth were gritted, and anyone could easily tell that he wished to punch the men. He started to shout at them in Japanese. Zachary could only glance at the camera, as if he could see someone staring back at him. He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head, strands of his hair following the wind. "The best way that Overwatch can save your dumb asses, is if they intrude to our base. You know that nothin' else is gonna work, right, Hanzo?" Zachary crossed his arms, letting out a laugh. "Answer or not, it wont matter. We are going to invert Overwatch--turn 'em onto their asses. They'll all be sent to hang 'cause of their stupidity. Would you like that, Hanzo? To watch as everyone is killed before your eyes, including your own brother? And who is the cause? You of-"  
  
"You of course." Hanzo replied with a hatred in his voice. The irreconcilable tone in his voice told Zachary to back off. But he refused to--the man was always a fighter. Hanzo could only stare back as Zachary stomped his way toward him, forcing a low growl to make its way out of Hanzo's throat. "You walk at me like you are a vicious beast. You believe you make Genji or I afraid? Hah. Talon boy, fool of all fools. No matter what you do to either of us, it will never make us scared. You do not scare us, Talon scum. By the time Overwatch arrives, IF they decide to show their face around here, you will realize your own mistake. Take a few more steps, fool, and you will see what I can do." Hanzo threatened, regret unable to be sensed in his voice. Zachary had halted his movement, and was now staring at Hanzo in slight surprise. Then, laughter flooded out of him. He stopped laughing after a few minutes. The other man was completely quiet, staying near Genji to assure himself that Genji wouldn't spring up and attack.  
  
"Damn! I 'ad no clue you 'ad it in you." Zachary laughed, "a total surprise to me. Fuck. If only Reaper was in 'ere. Your mouth wouldda been shut faster than you could blink." Hanzo gave him a questioning look, "y'know, like 'e'd punch you in the mouth." Zachary swiftly added. He yawned and sat down, far from Hanzo. Something seemed to click in him, since he quickly stood up and grinned widely. "Ah-hah! I know why Reaper gave me that thing!" Running out of the room for a moment gave Hanzo time to breathe steadily. The other man had also left after him, and Genji refused to stand. His legs looked as if they were pulled and grabbed. They were naked and a horrible red color, like McCree's serape, only more pink. There were a few cuts here and there on his legs but that did not explain why Genji didn't stand.   
  
Zachary returned moments later, and he held up a small syringe with a purple substance inside. Hanzo stared at it, taking glances toward Zachary. "This 'ere is gonna do some crazy shit to ya." He informed Hanzo. "It ain't gonna be irreparable to yer 'ealth, so don't you worry a thing. Don't come runnin' to me when it wears off. Lies and slander." He walked toward Hanzo just as the video started to glitch out. A small symbol appeared for a split second, but McCree did his best to ignore it. "Maybe I should use it on 'im instead?" He pointed his thumb toward Genji, and Hanzo lashed out at him to the best of his ability.  
  
"You will not do such a thing or so-"  
  
"Or so what? Ya gonna kill me like ya did to him?" Silence was overwhelming, and Hanzo could not break it with a response. Zachary fled from Hanzo, making his way straight to Genji. "It's a simple tool, y'see? Just gonna do a few things to his heart rate at the least. Worst case scenario it doesn't work. It's not an ability that'll be irretrievable." He kneeled, taking Genji's left arm into his hand and pressing the tip of the syringe to it. But he didn't stab the needle in at least, that is what it looked like. "Wont need yer permission, will I?"  
  
"Do not!" Hanzo snarled. "Hurt me instead! Not him!" He yelled protectively, his voice cracking.  
  
"What happened to not fearing us, Hanzo?" Zachary stabbed the needle into Genji, and grinned. "Fear is the thing that keeps us alive." He said as the substance leaked into Genji's bloodstream. Genji's fist knocked into Zachary's jaw, but he then became as stiff as a board--unmoving like a statue. Zachary stood, rubbing his jaw with the syringe at his side. He walked next to the camera and placed a hand on it.  
  
"What did you do?! What did you do?!" Hanzo snapped, staring at Genji like he was the only thing he had (to which, he may be). Zachary laughed and McCree winced at how loud it had become.   
  
"Gonna have to make a jaunt." Zachary said, moving the camera slightly, "want a jest to soothe you?" Hanzo refused to answer. He glared toward the ground, shadows passing over his eyes. "You ain't a jovial person at all. Shit. I'm jubilant about that, I guess. Yer brother is gonna be fine, so don't fret. Yer stubborn enough to argue and throw rocks at a sign board." Then, the video ended with a purple mist flying up from Genji's body.  
  
_"It means something took control over him. Talon, I believe." A female voice said behind McCree. He spun around in his seat, seeing it to be Mercy. "They took control of Genji, a-and..." She dared not to say anymore. McCree slammed his fist down, glaring straight at her. He felt bad for her, knowing that she took a liking to the cyborg. He stood up, his spurs jingling from all of the movement.   
  
"Another reason as to _why_ we shouldn't just stand here while Genji murders the shit out of his own brother! Can't light here while Talon destroys a teammate and his brother. _Hell_ no!" He stomped past Mercy without a second though or word. It was _his_ final thought. Refusing to sit around, McCree made his way to his own room. He began to grab ammo, literally just grabbing numerous handfuls of them. He made sure they were comfortably in his belt before he made his way out of the room. He wore his same Stetson with the serape and boots.  
  
"How many times, _Jesse..."_ Snapped Reinhardt, who was rubbing his forehead and shaking his head in disappointment, "how many times does it take until you finally decide to listen to us?" He was blocking McCree's way of being able to go and save the Shimada brothers before it was too late. "The amount of trouble you would get in, McCree!" He roared, grinning. "I like your bravery! But Angela told me that you were leaving to go and get Genji and Hanzo? We must wait, for we are not ready yet!"  
  
"We are not ready yet, but I am." McCree replied, patting his arm and he was able to squeeze by. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'd rather get my ass kicked today instead of when our friends are dead." He snorted at the mention of "friends." Hanzo was _not_ his friend. If anything; his foe. His enemy. His nemesis. He could hear Reinhardt facing him as he made his way down the hallway.   
  
"You'll miss tonight's dinner then?!" Reinhardt called to him. McCree held up his hand, making a thumbs-up. Walking around the corner, he walked right out of the base. Did Mercy expect Reinhardt to deal with McCree? To McCree, Reinhardt was a hilarious protector with a small brain (not that McCree could say so--he wasn't all that judicious himself). He couldn't decide which video was worse--the first one, where Hanzo's arm had been torn, or the second one where Genji had appeared.  
  
McCree nearly leaped 10 feet into the air when he felt someone, or something, touch both of his sides. The two dragons, Purotekuta and Asgata, had returned. But they were at one of his sides. At his other side, a green dragon slithered around him. It was thin and very long--longer than the other two. It stared up at McCree with sad eyes. It had small cuts covering it. McCree couldn't help but frown at this, and he went and inspected Purotekuta. Purotekuta had a gash on its arm, but it had been healed, yet a mark remained. _Just like Hanzo's arm._   
  
The green dragon _had_ to be Genji's. Enkatsu was its name. How could it have shown up though?  McCree kneaded the green dragon with his prosthetic, letting it press against the wall to McCree's right. It curled up and stared at him with its white eyes. There had to be some lapse in what was going on. The other two dragons swam in the air, twirling around with each other. He let out a sigh, walking toward the front doors. Making his way out, he made himself a clear promise. "Hell. I promise myself I'll save those two." He said, hearing the dragons let out small noises as flew around his legs. He swatted them away before they could trip him.   
  
As McCree walked through the door, he slammed it shut behind him, a tad harder than he meant to. The shoulder with the 'T' burned with pain, as if something had seared into his skin. He placed his hand on it, cursing under his breath. There was a truck that Mercy had been able to find--laden. He trudged up the hill, the sun heating his back. He had multiple problems. First, he had no clue where the base was, and second, how would he be able to get in there without being caught? It had to be an underground base--and that only reduced his chances of being able to get in.   
  
The three dragons flew directly in front of McCree, halting. He waved his hand, "move. Got work ta be done." He said, petting Perotekuta. It let out a little, "mph" sound, before waving its tail, as if to tell McCree to follow it. "Ya want me ta follow ya?" It flew in circles, then went to the left. It moving too fast forced McCree to jog after it, Asgata and Enkatsu following close behind. Could the dragons be leading him to the latent base? He wouldn't guess it.   
  
As he followed the three dragons, they led him across fields of grass before finally stopping at a small abandoned house. Stepping up to it, McCree inspected the wooden door. It appeared to have scratch marks trailing along the sides--the door knob covered in, what looked like, dried blood. The door seemed to be broken--off its hinges. Pushing the door open, McCree stepped inside. The sunlight kept the room alive. It had the look that there had been a larceny very recently. The walls were coated with an orange paint, most of the paint having been chipped off the wall. The three dragons let McCree look around--two couches that would be way too small for him to lay on, two lamps on top of small tables, and a broken television, knocked off of the table it had once been on.   
  
Then, the dragons suddenly flew down the single set of stairs that led downwards. Following, McCree passed broken paintings that had once hung on the wall with lonely nails. His hand flew to his holster as he heard a scratching noise--and out came a cat. It flew past him, to which McCree let out a sigh of relief. He quietly opened a door that the dragons led him too. Why would the dragons be helping him of all people. And especially--why did they go to him of all people? They could have gone to Reinhardt, Mercy, Tracer, or even Winston. Maybe even somehow spoken to Athena. But it _had_ to be McCree. Was it because of his determination to save a fellow teammate and his brother?  
  
The door creaked as it was pushed open. Stepping through, McCree found himself in a lit hallway. He could hear people yelling, as if a party was going on. There was loud music being played in a single room that looked huge. McCree walked right by it, bringing his Peacekeeper out in case something was to go wrong. He passed by a small room that he thought was to be a lavatory. It was being occupied, and McCree was glad that he would not have to confront someone who would be ass naked. A lint trail was what the dragons seemed to be following--and they showed him to a room. Stopping in front of it, they spun around to face the cowboy. They nodded their head to him and the door. "So the two are in here?" He asked them. They twirled, swirled, in circles, flying through a broken glass in the door. McCree shoved his body against it to open it, but a loud bang rang out. The door was jammed--locked.   
  
Footsteps zig-zagged through the halls, dodging the tons of things lying around. McCree hissed quietly and stayed in his place, the wall concealing his entire body from the person in the hallway. Their footsteps grown quiet. They stepped closer and closer to where McCree was, to the point where McCree was forced to reveal himself. Aiming his gun at the woman that had shown, he grinned and tipped his hat--a proper introduction. "Howdy." He said with joy, pulling the trigger. The shot rang out through the halls, giving McCree a limited amount of time to get both Hanzo and Genji, and get the fuck out of there. The woman fell to the floor, dropping a satchel. McCree swiped it up and searched through it--no key. " _My lucky day!"_ McCree snapped. He spun to the door and shoved his foot against it, kicking it over and over. The door wasn't limber, that was for sure. The door flew open, slamming against the wall, sure to leave a dent. He stomped his way in. "Hanzo! Gen...ji..?" His voice trailed off as he scanned the room. There were no other beings in there but himself. One dragon remained, though--Asgata. It stared at McCree. The room's lights flickered on, and he could see it clearly now. _How did he not see it before?_  
  
The dragon had a purple mist flying from its body--reaching the ceiling like smoke from a fire in a small room. Its eyes weren't white anymore--they were dark purple. It squealed and disappeared, leaving behind purple smoke. _A trap...this was all a trap!  
  
_ McCree flew out of the room, his serape acting like a cape as he moved swiftly. He held onto his hat, praying that he wouldn't lose anything. Dodging through the halls, he shot multiple members of Talon before they took aim to him. He counted--3 in total that he had killed so far. But something made his shoulders feel heavier than usual. The very thought that came to his mind sent chills down his spine.  
  
Purotekuta had a scar on its arm--the exact same arm that Hanzo had been injured on. If Asgata had been corrupted by Talon...  
  
Had _Hanzo_ been mind-controlled by Talon, just like how Widowmaker had been controlled?  
  
McCree slowed his movement, trailing across the rusty ground. He could smell copper--as if he was smelling his hands from touching tons of coins. Where were they? Where could Genji and Hanzo have gone? Had they left when the video wasn't playing? Had the man in the mask taken them somewhere? McCree let out an angry growl and threw his gun down, close to giving out. Were they even _worth it?_ And even if they were, would it be worth it to save them? If Talon had truly corrupted them, then Overwatch would be screwed if McCree brought the brothers back.   
  
His attention snapped to the sound of the dragons. He spun around and picked up his gun. Enkatsu was there with red eyes and dark green scales--darker than what they used to be. The purple mist that had floated from Asgata was back. The dragon flew into the hall, and McCree, without thinking, ran after it. _It's a trap!_ His mind shouted to him. He passed a loft--passed the room with the music--and found his way into a large room. There were chairs and tables flipped over among the room. The dragon had disappeared once again, leaving only a purple mist in its wake. Then, he saw him. _Genji._ He was lying on his side, holding himself as if he was in terrible pain. McCree bolted over to him, sliding to a stop and kneeling.   
  
"Shit! Shit! Genji, ya with me?! Hey!" McCree shook the cyborg, watching as he lazily fell onto his back. His visor was still attached--cracked, but still attached. McCree lifted Genji into his arms and sighed. "Fuck. If only I brought Mercy here or someone..." He hadn't brought any medicine or gauze or anything. McCree turned around and let out a hiss, his shoulder starting to hurt more than before. It was like an ironer being placed against his shoulder. He heard Genji cough and he placed him on a table. "Fuck fuck fuck!" He snapped, spinning around. "Wait here. Dunno if ya can hear me but...just stay there, will ya?" He grumbled to Genji. He fumbled with his comlink and pressed his finger to it. "Mercy? Winston? Reinhardt?" He said into it. All he heard was a crackle of static in reply. He kept moving in circles and squares, unable to stay still.   
  
Then he felt it.  
  
As sharp as a blade, the tip of two things pressed against the back of his neck. His serape was forcefully pulled backwards, making it wrap around his neck swiftly. He let out a choked gasp and he dropped his gun to the ground, which clanked. He slowly turned around, seeing two familiar faces that he would never forget. Two faces that would haunt his mind with what had been done to them.  
  
Face one: Hanzo Shimada. His eyes were a dark purple, and the smoke that filled the air came from his hands that held the Stormbow close to his body. His hair looked darker than usual--darker attire as well. He had somehow appeared to be too far to reach McCree's neck. It wasn't Hanzo that had placed a point against his neck.   
  
Face two: Genji Shimada. The green in his visor--in the entire cyborg body--was a dark green, like the moss that would appear on a tree. He held three shurikens in his hand, and he too, was too far to place a point on his neck. What had touched McCree?  
  
Hanzo's eyes stared straight at McCree's--like a wolf finding its prey. McCree has heard the whistle too many times--the whistle of an arrow being released by its user. The sound coming from it sounded of a dragon howling to prey upon its next victim.  
  
He heard it before he saw it. He felt it before he could do much. The arrow that now was stuck in his shoulder made his shoulder ache. It made McCree unable to even lift his shoulder. His hand flew to the wound and he grabbed the arrow, watching as the next arrow had been settled into the bow--and fired.  
  
The whistle forced McCree to close his eyes, as he knew death was approaching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~More apologies! I was unable to update for a while, for I had been busy with other projects. I have gotten a tumblr account (Aemoenea), which can be found here: http://aemoenea.tumblr.com/   
> I do hope you enjoyed! I will get Chapter 4 out as soon as possible.~

**Author's Note:**

> ~Thank you for reading "The Final Thought!"


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